These Long, Lonely Ten Years
by zara2148
Summary: For ten years, all they had was each other. Sissel and Yomiel's story, as well as the tale of Yomiel's descent into darkness. Massive spoilers.
1. The Beginning

He was confused. The body he was in was not his, the other presence he felt there confirming that.

Unsure of what to do, he mentally stepped back, watching as the other presence, a kitten, went about her life. It soon became clear, however, that this kitten was still much too young to fend for herself, unable to yet secure any food on her own. He reached out to her, wishing he could do something…

… only to find himself suddenly the one in control, the kitten too weak to put up any sort of fight. Realizing he had a chance to help, he plotted and executed a plan to knock over a garbage can full of food. Satisfied, he took a moment to admire his work before surrendering control back to its rightful owner.

The kitten was confused for but a second before she happily settled down to the task of munching. He retreated once more to the back of her mind, pleased he'd been of assistance.

* * *

It happened entirely by chance one day. On a sojourn into an alley for food, they came across a discarded section of the newspaper. One of the featured articles was captioned "Meteorite Murders Man!" (apparently he knew how to read). Off to the side was a photo of said man. He took one look at it, at _himself_, and everything came rushing back.

_Yomiel. Programmer. Interrogation. Park. Hostage. Fiancee... SISSEL!_

Then and there he hatched a plan.

* * *

It was assumed that breaking into the morgue was impossible, and perhaps for a human it was. A _kitten_, however, had very little difficulty in doing so.

Yomiel left said kitten outside the room where his body was being kept, traveling inside to repossess it. There were waves of some sort emitting from it, but he ignored that, ignored everything that distracted him from his goal.

It felt strange to move his body now, distant. Like it wasn't his body so much as a puppet he was merely controlling. Sliding off the table it had been laid out on, he walked over to the door. Luckily for him the door could be unlocked from the inside.

The kitten was waiting on the other side, ready to greet him with a mewl. He took her into his arms, unable to abandon her. Not after she had gotten him all this way.

He shoved the fact he couldn't feel the cat fur under his fingers to the back of his mind.

* * *

After he grabbed the spare key to her house (Sissel kept it hidden under a hollow plastic frog), he walked inside, silently wondering how he was going to explain this.

… how did one explain this, anyway? He certainly didn't know how it was possible.

The kitten jumped out of his arms, curious as to this new place she found herself in. "Sissel?" he called out. No answer. Maybe she wasn't home.

He walked into the kitchen, and stopped in horror at what he saw. His fiancee, propped up against a lower cabinet, blood trailing from her wrists and forming into little pools on the floor. Blood also coated the knife that lay beside her, presumably from being used.

… guess there was no longer a need to explain anything.

When he could tear his eyes away from the sight before him, he spotted a note placed by the kitchen sink. He picked it up, grateful for a distraction, any distraction.

_I'm coming to you, Yomiel._

The note slipped out of his hand and drifted to the ground. He bent over, hand hovering over the now blood-stained note, the last thing she'd left to him… before reaching out to pick up the knife. He wiped the blood on it off with a dish towel, feeling oddly distant, before holding the now clean knife up into the light.

He was supposed to be dead. Might as well finish the job.

Without hesitance, he plunged the knife into his chest.

And felt absolutely nothing from it.

Curious, he pulled it out of his chest, surprised to see the knife wasn't the least bit bloody. He ripped open his shirt and watched as the entrance wound the knife had left finished closing itself up. There wasn't so much as a scratch to show it had been there.

The knife clattered to the floor, missing the kitten rubbing up against his legs.

He was supposed to be dead. So why wasn't he?

* * *

He'd left her house in a daze, events still sinking in. He couldn't die, that was clear now. But with that option gone, what was he supposed to do?

His ears caught a soft padding sound creeping up behind him. Glancing back, he was greeted with the sight of the little black kitten.

"So you followed me, did you?" Not that he could blame the kitten for not wanting to stick around. He certainly hadn't.

Brazenly the little kitten marched up to him, once more rubbing up against his legs.

"You want to come with me?" He asked as he picked her up gently, his hands surprisingly steady. "I can't promise I'll be the greatest of owners."

The kitten nuzzled against his hand, as if reassuring that she didn't care.

Well, he reflected as he cradled her closer, the two of them had at least one thing in common: they both understood what it was to be utterly alone in the world.

* * *

At night in the darkness, finding he was unable to sleep (not _couldn't_ sleep, mind you. More like he was _physically unable_ to) thoughts of suicide once more drifted into his head.

Maybe he just hadn't tried hard enough. Maybe it would work if he did something else. Maybe, just maybe…

The kitten snoozing against him shifted slightly, giving him pause in his thoughts.

… but if he did that, who would take care of her?

He scratched the little kitten behind the ears. Even in her sleep, she moved closer to him.

She had no else. She needed him.

He repeated that to himself. He was _needed_.

* * *

"I've been thinking about what I should call you," he told the kitten as she lay curled up in his lap. Even if he couldn't feel the fur under his fingers, he found the motion itself soothing. A welcome little bit of normalcy.

He hesitated before continuing. "What do you think of… Sissel?" He paused in his petting, hand falling to his side. "It… it was the name of someone important to me. My fiancee," he explained.

The kitten purred and nuzzled closer against him. A smile somehow sneaked its way across his face. Sissel it was, then.

* * *

Red's always been her favorite color, she'd tell him whenever she would tease his taste in suits.

He tied the red bandana around Sissel's neck. It always was her favorite color…

The kitten rubbed up against his hand, meowing affectionately.


	2. Year One

**Thanks to Firefury Amahira for all her help. Particularly with the messed up motor control idea (which was hers).**

* * *

The days following were much of a blur… but a few things stood out.

_

* * *

_

Left foot…

Even something as simple as walking was a chore now, Yomiel found.

_Right foot…_

His body simply wasn't responding, or rather wasn't providing feedback, the way it used to.

_Left foot…_

Unable to register anything, it turned taking a single step forward into a game of guesswork.

_Right foot…_

Amazing how he hadn't picked up on it sooner.

_Left foot…_

Certainly there had been enough near trippings that should have clued him in when he had been walking to her… to her…

… _right foot…_

He stopped that chain of thought right there, refocusing on his current challenge of navigating a flight of stairs.

_Left foot…_

Without holding onto the railing.

_Right foot…_

… luckily, programmers were known for their ability to eliminate guesswork.

_Left foot…_

Or, he reflected as his right foot caught on his left pant leg, at least minimize it.

And that was all he had time to think before he plummented down the stairs, landing in a heap at the bottom with a loud CRASH!

"Owww..." he moaned reflexively. Then he realized he wasn't so much as in an ounce of pain. Sitting up, he performed a quick once-over, and turned up nothing of interest.

He just fell down a flight of stairs and didn't have so much as a broken nail to show for it.

He took a moment to stand up cautiously, leaning onto the railing for support. He made a mental note to use elevators whenever possible.

* * *

Under normal circumstances, Yomiel would never dream of abusing his computer skills (despite what others had so easily believed). But it was obvious his circumstances had ceased to be normal.

A dead man could hardly apply for a new job (he'd no doubt lost his old one). And a dead man could hardly stroll into a bank and make a withdrawal from his account.

Especially if said bank account had been liquidated, as his should have been by now. He had no will, no living relatives, no next of kin… most likely, the money had been used to pay off any remaining taxes he had.

Heh. Guess he no longer needed to worry about _those_ anymore.

Still, a dead man could desperately need funds, and fast. Yomiel already had plans to set up an online business as a freelance programmer, but that would take time to bring in cash and he needed money now. So he had to get a little… creative.

Using whatever computer equipment he could get his hands on, Yomiel had written up a program (which given the… adjustments he still had yet to fully make, took him far longer to code than it once would have). This program had been designed to hack into multiple bank accounts and siphon away a portion of their savings. A few pennies here, some loose change there… not enough for anyone to notice but enough for it to all eventually add up. And all of it would be transferred to an offshore account set up under an alias.

Now all that was left to do was activate the program, and all that would take is a single click of the mouse. It was all so incredibly easy.

And as his hand hovered over the mouse, that was precisely what worried him. "It has to be done," he murmured, and pushed down on the mouse's left button.

As the program sped off to perform its duties, Yomiel leaned back slightly with a sigh. "It had to be done," he reminded himself, hand coming to rest in his lap. After all, he reasoned as he stroked the growing kitten curled up against him, he didn't have just himself to think about.

He must have been applying too much pressure in his petting then, because Sissel let out a small yowl. Her fur bristled as she shot him a dirty look.

He held up his hand as he smiled apologetically. "Sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm still… adjusting, it seems." To make amends he resumed his petting, taking care to ensure he was gentle.

It took her a few moments but she finally settled back down to purring contentedly.

* * *

"Monument Established to Rock of the Gods," a newspaper article declared.

Yomiel crumpled the paper up from where he sat on the floor and tossed it to the side. A dim smile crossed his face when Sissel pawed at the paper wad, batting it around his feet. Smiles were becoming fewer and fewer in between, particularly when he was reminded of that day in the park. The day everything changed for him.

Well, not just him. "Sissel?" he called softly. The kitten looked up at him, quickly coming to recognize that as her name.

"Do you remember, when we first met, how I… possessed you?" He winced at the last part, uncomfortable with how… malevolent the word sounded. "I wonder… would you mind if I tried… doing it again?" He needed to know what he was capable of, what these powers of his could do.

Sissel trotted over and gave his hand a nuzzle.

"So you… wouldn't mind?"

She let out a small purr. He returned her nuzzle with a little scratch behind the ears as he sat up. "Okay then."

He closed his eyes and tried to recreate what he had done before without thinking. When he opened them, his entire vision was tinted blue. Not just that, but everything was frozen in place; time itself seemed to be at a complete standstill.

… how oddly fitting.

He focused on the kitten in front of him and reached out to her, successfully jumping to her body from his. Pleased, his vision reverted back to normal.

Time once more flowing, Sissel nuzzled against the hand still on her head… leaving him to watch with a dawning horror as his body, no longer supported by anything, began to fall over onto her. Just as he was about to seize control to save her, Sissel realized what was happening, and darted away as his body crumpled to the floor with a THUMP. She glanced behind her and mewled a query before padding back to where his body rested, rubbing up against it in concern.

Relieved that Sissel was okay, Yomiel switched back to the blue worldview. Taking a closer inspection at his surroundings, he noticed that many of the household objects had this… core of light to them. And it was beautiful.

He didn't even realize he was reaching out to one until he had already done so, jumping from Sissel's body to the keyboard. His flame now possessing the keyboard as time was allowed to resume, Yomiel wondered what the heck he was supposed to do?

Then he recalled the glimpses he'd caught of various horror movies (the genre had never been a favorite of his), and an idea sparked in his brain. Concentrating, he willed the keyboard to do something, anything.

A wish answered with the tapping of the "Y" key.

If he could have laughed, Yomiel would have. As it was, he somehow managed to do so anyway, despite the fact he was currently a keyboard.

Said keyboard's keys then rattled off an incomprehensible stream of text, Yomiel not typing anything in particular; merely seeing how fast he could do so. He actually had to _slow down_ when he worried he was at risk of overloading the keyboard.

Oh yes, this would definitely come in handy.

Taking a break from his mad typing, Yomiel noticed that Sissel's attention had shifted from his non-responsive body to the mysterious keyboard tapping out letters on its own (it wasn't worth asking how he could see out of said keyboard). Seized by a sudden mischief, he typed out a quick message. The words "Hi, Sissel," appeared on the computer screen.

It was only when Sissel stared in confusion that Yomiel remembered cats can't read. Amused, he stopped time once more, ready to return to his body. That's when he got his first real look at it.

Those strange waves were still pouring out of his body, but that's not what caught his eye. No, what caught his eye was the core of light emitting from it.

But how could that be…? His body… how could it…?

No. Not his body. His _corpse_. A shell of everything he once was, of all that could have been.

And his vision… it lied to him. Any light he once held, any _life_ he once had… was long since extinguished.

His movements as he navigated back were mechanical, a mere show of going through the motions. The same could be said of all his movements now, really.

Repossessing his shell, Yomiel pushed himself up from where he lay sprawled out on the floor. Sissel, seeing he was alright, came over and let out a little mewl. He reached out and gave her another little scratch. "I think that's enough for today."

* * *

"Sissel?" he called, wondering where she had hidden herself this time. When she didn't appear, he stood up and sighed. "I just wanted you to know I'm going out. I'll be back later," he told the room in general, hoping she'd hear wherever she was.

Out of habit he grabbed his laptop bag by the door, unaware of the cat napping within.

* * *

A year has passed since then, he reflects before the grave marker. Since she… since she…

Best not to dwell on it.

A year without her, though it could have just as easily been an eternity. Yet when he placed a hand beneath his sunglasses, his eyes were completely dry.

He couldn't cry. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't cry the tears she deserved.

A single sound startled him out of his thoughts. "Meowr." A swift side glance revealed Sissel next to him, her eyes looking up at him with a mix of emotions.

Yomiel kneeled down to her eye level and scratched underneath her chin. "Where did you come from?" he asked as she let out a purr. His eyes fell on the discarded bag, the flap open as it lay on its side. "Ahh." She climbed up onto his legs, and rubbed her face up against his numbed cheek.

His arms tentatively wrapped themselves around her. He pulled her closer and buried his face in her fur, pretending for a moment he actually feltit. Sissel did not resist, merely watched him in concern.

They stayed there for a while, their world consisting of just the two of them.

"… shall we go back?"

"Meowr."

* * *

The website for his business was officially up and running. It hadn't attracted any real attention yet, but Yomiel had faith it would. These things just took time, which he had plenty of now.

Clicking out of the browser, Yomiel paused before moving his pointer over to where his account-cracking program was. Currently, it was inactive. But it needed to be deleted.

…. all it had taken was a single click to unleash it… so too would it only take a click to delete it…

… yet still he hesitated.

He never liked deleting programs. To craft them so carefully, to gift meaning to what was once random numbers… and then to just throw them away? He'd be hacking off a part of himself!

But this… this was no program. This was a mistake, a monster. Did he really want to lay claims to _that_?

… could he abandon all ties he had to it? He created the program, there was no denying that.

Programs reflected who their programmers were; his were no exception. Even… _especially _one as dark and twisted as this.

His hand withdrew from the mouse as he shut the computer down without further ceremony.

* * *

With a little bit of practice and experimentation, Yomiel found that his powers had other, more mundane uses. They could serve as a sixth sense of sorts, allowing him to get a bearing on his surroundings with every slow, measured step he took. True, he still could not feel anything, but at least he was _aware _when he came in contact with something.

It didn't help with the finer things like typing, and he still planned to use elevators whenever possible. But it was something.

And something had been more than he thought he had.

* * *

So his life went on, insofar as it could still be called such.

**

* * *

**

Mein gott, I'm writing honest to goodness chapters (and speaking German!) What have you done to me, Yomiel? What have you done!

… **and is there any way you can make it permanent?**


End file.
